


like this

by regrettably



Category: JJCC (Band)
Genre: M/M, it ain't a birthday until somebody cries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6235648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regrettably/pseuds/regrettably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hadon doesn't quite expect to spend the morning of Joonyoung's birthday in their dorm's bathroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like this

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote up real quick for E.co's birthday! Nothing unsavoury beyond the usual sex and profanity here!

 

“Joonyoung… Joonyoung…”

 

It’s not like Hadon to be up and out of bed hours before he needs to be.

 

But this morning, he woke up and rolled over and Joonyoung wasn’t beside him.  This isn’t unusual in of itself, Joonyoung’s blood is ninety percent energy drink and ten percent substances Hadon isn’t entirely sure of, so he’s usually awake and busy with something long before anybody else is.

 

But today, the second Hadon opened his eyes and realized he wasn’t holding Joonyoung in his arms, he knew something was wrong.

 

Because today is Joonyoung’s birthday.

 

Hadon had been hoping that he was just in the bathroom or something, that he’d be coming back to bed shortly.  But when the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of Joonyoung returning, Hadon was forced to accept that his plans for this morning were going to be delayed at best.

 

They’re just starting their promotions, but he’d been planning a slow and hopefully passionate massage (he’d had to ask for tips in secret, and unfortunately Youngjin was his best option) followed by leisurely morning sex where he could pamper Joonyoung like he deserves to be pampered.  He had agreed to do Eddy’s chores for a week if he’d make them both breakfast in bed after that, so he’d been hoping they could spend the entire short morning that they get in a way Joonyoung would maybe find cozy and romantic.

  

But instead Hadon’s standing in the doorway of their tiny two-storey house’s only bathroom with messy hair and bleary eyes and hastily pulled on pyjama pants and watching Joonyoung with a growing sense of dread.

 

“Joonyoung… Joonyoung… do you want to maybe come back to bed, or…?”

 

He’s not even sure if Joonyoung registers his presence.

 

Joonyoung has this... _routine_ … that he goes through every morning on his birthday.

 

Hadon had first found out by accident.  It was when they were trainees, it was so early in the morning it was still dark outside, he’d needed to pee, and there was Joonyoung, standing in nothing but his underwear in their cramped bathroom, examining himself in the mirror.

 

And it wasn’t just his usual preening, the shaving and the waxing and the plucking and the figuring out how best to do his makeup for the day or which way to style his hair.  He seemed to be taking stock of himself.   He was literally measuring the width of his arms, his waist, his thighs, his calves, and he was pulling at his hair and running his fingers over every inch of his skin and pinching and pulling at his face.

 

Hadon couldn’t really do much more than watch in fascination.  He’d found Joonyoung to be absolutely gorgeous, even back then.  Even when Hadon was just a teenager and they both hadn’t been allowed to cut their hair, he’d still thought that Joonyoung was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and there was no way he could have possibly torn his eyes away from Joonyoung’s thin frame no matter how hard he’d tried.

 

But Joonyoung didn’t even seem to notice him standing there and watching.  He just went about his business, tugging at his eyelids, contorting his face into different expressions, turning in front of the mirror and inspecting himself from every possible angle.  When he finished, he’d given himself a satisfied little nod in the mirror and that was the end of that.

 

The next year was different.  Hadon had kind of put what he saw the year before out of his mind, and he’d walked into the bathroom without even thinking on the morning of Joonyoung’s birthday.  There he was again, going through the same process of assessing his body, and he didn’t seem to be aware of Hadon coming in.

 

That year, he was a little more thorough (and Hadon had thought he had done a pretty good job the first time of whatever it was that he was doing), took a little longer, and he didn’t nod to himself at the end of the whole thing.

 

Now, by this time they’d already gotten together, and Hadon figured he could ask his new-ish boyfriend what exactly he was doing.

 

“Just checking.”  Was Joonyoung’s response.

 

He never brought it up again, and neither did Hadon, because if there’s one thing he’s learned in his time with Joonyoung is that sometimes it’s just better to not ask.

 

The year after, they had debuted, and Joonyoung was somehow even more beautiful to Hadon then with his carefully done makeup and his wiry body and his shiny dyed hair, and Hadon didn’t think it was even possible for anybody to be more beautiful than Joonyoung was before.

 

That year, when Hadon found him in the bathroom on his birthday, he was frowning as he ran his fingers through his hair and poked at his eyes and his nose and his lips and trailed along his abdomen with shaky hands.  Once again, he didn’t nod to himself when he was finished, but this time he traced along the reflection of his face in the mirror with his long fingers and sighed before he walked right past Hadon on the way out.

 

Today is the worst one yet.

 

Joonyoung is, in Hadon’s eyes, the same as he always is.  He’s fresh out of the shower and he’s stunning.  He’s in nothing but a towel that’s wrapped loosely around his tiny waist, all gorgeous bronze skin and long arms and even longer legs, lean muscle and wet black locks that fall over his ears and his big dark pupils.  More beautiful than the day Hadon first met him.  At least, he would be if he’d stop looking so unhappy.

 

“Joonyoung, I really think you might want to come back to bed… I’ve got, uh, a present you…”  Hadon tries to sound more enthusiastic than he feels, running hands through his unkempt hair as he hopes for some kind of response.

 

All he gets is Joonyoung muttering something low under his breath; tugging at the skin on the back of his unsteady hands and watching it resettle.

 

Now he’s really worried.  If he can’t tempt Joonyoung with presents, it might be even worse than he thought.

 

He decides to leave his post in the doorway, pushing some of the various crap (shampoos, soaps, Eddy’s terrible hair gel, assorted eyeliner pencils and lipsticks all belonging to his boyfriend, disturbingly communal deodorant, etc.) lining the counter around their tiny sink to the side and slouches down in the little clearing, right next to Joonyoung, and Joonyoung still doesn’t give him a second glance.  He’s too occupied with the way his neck looks at different angles, fingers outlining his jutting adam’s apple, hands always moving, moving, moving.

 

The way his hands never stop worries Hadon.  The way they shake worries Hadon.  The way he can’t tear his eyes away from the mirror even for a second worries Hadon.

 

He hazards a touch; gently bumping his knee against Joonyoung’s hip, looking up into his frowning face.  “Joonyoung… what are you doing?”

 

The physical contact makes Joonyoung jump a little, but he still won’t turn away from the mirror.

 

“Look at this… look at this…”  Joonyoung’s repeating this phrase more to himself than to Hadon, but Hadon picks it up nonetheless.

 

“Look at what?”  Hadon asks, rubbing his foot against Joonyoung’s calf in a way he hopes is reassuring, but his sleepy eyes pop open when Joonyoung suddenly grabs his arm.

 

“At this!”  Joonyoung holds up his free hand, showing Hadon the back.

 

It looks the same as it always does, slim and veiny, bony knuckles and long graceful fingers, carefully manicured fingernails.  “I’m not sure I-”

 

“And this!”  Joonyoung pulls at the skin on his neck, grimacing at the mirror.

 

“What am I supposed to be seeing?”

 

“And this!”  Joonyoung whips his head around, voice rising dangerously in both pitch and volume as his grip on Hadon’s wrist tightens and he points at the corner of one of his eyes.  “Wrinkles, Hadon!”

 

Hadon’s always looked forward to his future with Joonyoung.  He knows nothing will be easy for them, but he can envisage a sleek apartment filled with clothing and recording equipment and Joonyoung’s designs and sketches and countless cats and dogs.  He’s looking forward to days when they don’t have to wake up at four in the morning for schedules, no longer having to stay up all night for dance practices, for when he can bring Joonyoung coffee in bed and spend lazy weekends with him and do all the things they haven’t had time for yet.  He’s even secretly kind of looking forward to watching time pass with Joonyoung, to see his first grey hairs, the first time his smile lines don’t fade after he laughs, reassuring him that he still looks gorgeous even with his first wrinkles.

 

He just didn’t think that day would be today, when Joonyoung’s turning twenty-nine.

 

Hadon sits up, awake, attentive, trying to see what Joonyoung sees and failing.  “I really don’t think there are any-”

 

“No there are!  There are!  Look at them!”

 

Now Hadon realizes what this is.  The screechy voice, the shaking hands, the trembling bottom lip.  This is Joonyoung on the verge of a meltdown.

 

Joonyoung may be touchy at times.  He’s easily upset, easily irritated, easily angered.  But he’s not like Youngjin or Eddy.  He’s not prone to screaming, to storming out angrily, to tearful episodes spent curled up in his bed and ignoring everyone else.

 

Instead, he’s only had three meltdowns in all the time Hadon’s known him.  And they had been three of the most terrifying experiences of Hadon’s young life.

 

The first time happened when he came back from a night out.  Normally he’d spill some sordid details of the night to an always interested Youngjin, but instead he was dead silent as he slowly took off his coat, gently removed his shoes, and sat down in the middle of the couch.  He’d sat in silence for a good minute before his face crumpled and he burst out in tears, and proceeded to cry for _ten straight hours_.  Hadon didn’t even know that the human body was capable of producing that many tears, much less what Joonyoung could possibly find that upsetting.  He never did find out what exactly happened, but he did pull an all-nighter, sitting beside Joonyoung and trying to console him even though nothing he said seemed to help.

 

The second time, it had been a completely normal morning, everyone eating in relative quietness, and then Joonyoung suddenly snapped and tried to drown Prince Mak in the kitchen sink and it had taken the remaining members considerable physical effort to get him to stop (and Eddy had ended up with a black eye and a bloody lip and they’d had to tell their managers that he’d walked into a door).

 

The third time he’d locked himself in their bathroom for two whole days and refused to come out or even talk to anybody.  It had sucked in more ways than one, it’s the only bathroom they have, and they’d had to lie to their managers that time too and tell them he had a stomach flu.  Hadon had never found out why he’d done that either, although he’d slept outside the bathroom door for two nights in case Joonyoung ever did want to talk.

 

Now, Joonyoung doesn’t look like he’s going to quickly turn homicidal (although Hadon still has a passing thought that he should probably warn Daehwan, Joonyoung’s likely target of attempted murder now that Prince Mak isn’t around), but the locking himself in the bathroom, or even worse, the _crying_ , seems like a possibility.  And they’ve got promotions to do today.  And the next day.  And the day after that.  They definitely can’t afford to lose Joonyoung now.

 

But Hadon’s not really sure what he can do about it.  Especially since Joonyoung seems to be rapidly spiralling out of control.

 

“No, it’s a wrinkle!  Crow’s feet!  There’s no other explanation!  Oh god, it’s hideous, Hadon!  And look at my lips, look at them!  See the edges, see?!”  Joonyoung’s tugging at his lips now, way too roughly, he’s going to hurt himself like this, he’s already bruising Hadon’s arm…  “More wrinkles!”

 

Hadon tries to opt for the gentle approach, the one that won’t tip Joonyoung over the edge, as he has all morning. “There aren’t any wrinkles, Joonyoung… you look as good as you always do-”

 

“No, I don’t!  And that’s the point, Hadon!  I don’t!  Look at me!”  Joonyoung’s shouting now, voice grating and painful, probably loud enough to wake up Daehwan and Chanyul, probably not loud enough to wake up Youngjin.  Loud enough that it makes Hadon cringe, because Joonyoung may whine, he may complain, he may tell people what to do and how to do it, but he hardly ever yells quite like this.

 

“Joonyoung-”

 

“I don’t look the same!  And next year, I’ll look even worse!  And I’ll just keep looking worse, and worse, and worse… and the rest of you will never look as bad as I do!  As… _old_...”  He shudders when he says the word, “…as I do!”

 

His age has always been his biggest insecurity, along with the colour of his skin.  Both of which Hadon never mentions, mostly because they don’t bother him at all.  “Joonyoung-”

 

“I’m supposed to be the pretty one!  How can I be pretty if I look like this now?!”

 

“Joonyoung-”

 

“And what about like this?!”  Joonyoung suddenly lets go of Hadon’s wrist, using both hands to push all of his hair back off his forehead.  “What about like this?”

 

This.  Not this.  Joonyoung’s trembling and his eyes are huge and watery as he shows Hadon what he’ll look like with short hair, and he’s going to start crying and he can’t, he can’t, Hadon can’t have that again, it had nearly broken his heart the first time he saw him cry, and he’s going to cry this time himself if Joonyoung keeps doing this because even though it’s only for two years he knows how much Joonyoung doesn’t want to go…

 

“Joonyoung, please-”

 

“What about like this, Hadon?  What about like this?!”  Joonyoung turns away suddenly, flinging open a drawer, rummaging through it, pulling out a pair of hair scissors, and Hadon can’t let him do that, he’s got to stop this now, before Joonyoung cries, before he does something he’ll regret, before his gorgeous dark hair is scattered across the bathroom floor.

 

Telling Joonyoung what to do is never a great idea, and he might end up with a pair of scissors lodged somewhere in himself, but he just doesn’t know what else to do.

 

“ _Joonyoung.  Stop.”_

 

And he grabs Joonyoung’s wrists hard, hard enough that he’s forced to drop the scissors and they clatter on the tile floor of the tiny bathroom, hard enough that Joonyoung’s forced to really look at Hadon and _see_ him for the first time this morning.

 

But it’s still not enough.  Because Joonyoung’s breaths are shallow and fast and his eyes are frantic and brimming with tears and he’s already trying to twist his way out of Hadon’s grip.

 

“Stop it!  Let me go!  There’s nothing you can tell me that can make this better, Hadon!  You can’t fix my wrinkles or my ugly skin or how fucking old I am, so don’t even try and just let me-”

 

But Hadon refuses to let him break.

 

He does it in what might be the stupidest way possible.  He knows it’s stupid, but maybe the thought of Joonyoung crying makes him stupid.  Or maybe Joonyoung just makes him stupid in general.

 

Whatever it is, it makes him stand on his toes and kiss Joonyoung right on his trembling lips.

 

Which is dumb, he knows you should never kiss someone when they’re upset and you shouldn’t kiss someone to shut them up, but he just doesn’t know how to say that there’s nothing to fix and that Joonyoung’s beautiful just as he is and that there’s no way he ever won’t be beautiful to him no matter how old he is fast enough and he knows Joonyoung wouldn’t believe him if he could, so he just hopes his kiss says all of that and more.

 

He does let go of Joonyoung’s wrists, fully expecting to be slapped or scratched or most likely punched for being way out of line, but nothing like that ever comes.  Instead, his cheeks feel wet and he’s confused and he opens his eyes and he realizes that it’s Joonyoung’s hot tears that are spilling against his face.

 

Now he’s fucked up.

 

All he wanted was to stop Joonyoung from crying, but now he’s started, and who knows how long it will be before he stops?  It breaks Hadon’s heart all over again to see him like this, to see Joonyoung, beautiful, confident, sexy, cold, strong, controlled, brilliantly sharp, ruthless Joonyoung, _his_ Joonyoung, so strange and vulnerable and just… not like Joonyoung.  And he’d do anything to make him stop, to reassure him, but it’s too late now and he pulls his head away and tries to take a step back so he can think about how to possibly solve this mess but now it’s Joonyoung who won’t let him go.

 

Joonyoung catches him by the arms once again, long fingers wrapping gently around Hadon’s vein-threaded forearms, and when he speaks his voice is a hoarse whisper that reminds Hadon of glass breaking.  “What… what about like this?”

 

Hadon looks at his boyfriend, with quaking limbs, with tears tracking down his cheeks, with damp hair falling into his reddening eyes.

 

And of course, even like this, he’s the most beautiful person Hadon’s ever seen.

 

So he nods, and he reaches out and touches Joonyoung’s face gently, trying to rub at the rivulets running down Joonyoung’s cheeks.  He’s not entirely sure which gesture makes Joonyoung lose it completely, but one of them does.

 

He starts truly sobbing, tears spilling over Hadon’s fingers as he cries.  Hadon knows he’s past the point of no return now, but he’s willing to stand here in the bathroom for as long as it takes.  He’s willing to hold him close, to let him sob onto his bare shoulder, and even if he isn’t the best at expressing himself verbally, he’s even willing to try that and to tell Joonyoung what he needs to hear, until he’s back to being the Joonyoung they all know and love again.

 

But it turns out he doesn’t need to do any of that.  Because Joonyoung shakes his head as Hadon tries to wipe his tears away, and then before Hadon knows what’s happening he’s tugged forwards fiercely and Joonyoung’s lips are on his again.

 

And his lips are hot and his kisses are messy and needy and he frees Hadon’s arms in favour of curling his fingers behind his large ears so he can pull Hadon even closer and their teeth clack together and Hadon’s mind struggles to catch up with the situation.

 

Joonyoung was bawling literally seconds ago, no, wait, he’s still sobbing, Hadon can taste the salt from his tears on his lips, but now he’s trying to force his tongue down Hadon’s throat?  Not that he’d ever really complain about that, but Joonyoung’s obviously not in the right state of mind, or even in control at all, and he’s always, always, _always_ in control in everything that he does and it just doesn’t seem right.

 

He tries to pull away, tries not to kiss back, and when Joonyoung notices his resistance he stops for just a second, his voice nothing but a fragmented whisper in Hadon’s ears.  “P-please, I need…”

 

“You need…?”  Hadon blinks, and Joonyoung nods as he gulps in a breath of air, sniffling as more tears spring up in his eyes.

 

And then it clicks for Hadon.

 

Joonyoung doesn’t need words right now.  He needs proof.  He needs commitment.  He’s so used to being the weird mother figure for everyone else, he’s so used to being cold and consistent and in control.  But right now he isn’t in control, right now he needs trust and love and to be taken care of in the way he’s always taken care of the others.  And he needs all this through action, not words.

 

Which works for Hadon.  He’s never been a big talker anyways.

 

He cups Joonyoung’s thin face gently, goes for a careful kiss on his wet lips to check if this is all really okay, if this really is what Joonyoung wants, _needs_ , and when Joonyoung accepts him hungrily and readily, Hadon grips his jaw hard and pulls Joonyoung’s face down to his level.

 

Joonyoung melts right into him, pliant in his arms, doing nothing to stop Hadon’s hands from running all over his skin, cold and clammy from standing around in nothing but a towel for so long and he’s still damp from the shower.  He lets Hadon claim his lips, and Hadon pushes into him, forces them closer, presses their bare chests together so he can feel Joonyoung’s unsteady heartbeat against through his bony chest, and Hadon truly hopes that every press of his lips to Joonyoung’s shows him just how beautiful he really thinks he is.  Now and always.

 

When he pushes hard enough that the backs of Joonyoung’s thighs bump up against the sink, Hadon first removes a hand from Joonyoung’s perfect skin to knock all of the bottles and brushes lining the sink onto the floor, then he links his hands low under Joonyoung’s ass and lifts his thin boyfriend with ease, depositing him on the counter beside the sink.

 

Joonyoung wraps his bony legs around Hadon’s waist and uses them to pull him close, so their hips can grind together, and he starts to kiss back just like he was before, frantic and frenzied and red-hot.  His hands claw and scrape along Hadon’s shoulder-blades, drawing Hadon to him with sweltering need, and his lips are wet and desperate and searing against Hadon’s.  The towel around his waist falls open and Hadon can feel his erection press up against his hip, hot and hard, and his need alone is making Hadon react in just the same way.

 

Hadon tries to sneak a hand between them, fondling Joonyoung’s cock in a warm palm, fisting gently and running fingers along the clean skin, savouring the pulsing weight of it in his hand.  In the very distant back of his mind (Joonyoung really does make him stupid, but he thinks anybody in this situation would be struck dumb by Joonyoung too) he still has the thought of how he had originally intended to treat Joonyoung this morning, of how he wants to pamper him, to spoil him slowly, to cater to his every need and whim and drive him wild.  It is his birthday, after all, and he deserves the best and most caring sex Hadon can give him.

 

But Joonyoung doesn’t seem to want anything slow at all.  Hadon tries to stroke him slowly at first, but Joonyoung rocks his hips upwards fiercely and without rhythm or finesse, all while contorting strangely so he can keep their lips locked together as his hands move down from Hadon’s shoulders to try to tear his pyjama pants down.  He’s never seen Joonyoung so urgent, so full of want, so _desperate_ , and he’d already made up his mind to give him anything he needs to help him through his crisis.  And he’s been with Joonyoung long enough to know that he always wants more than just a rough and messy handjob, especially on his birthday.

 

He reaches downwards with his free hand, still never letting his lips part from Joonyoung’s, opening the drawer Joonyoung had found the scissors in earlier and searching blindly for lube while Joonyoung pushes his pyjamas down over his hips and frees his hardened cock.  His search is harder than he thought it would be, there’s quite the assortment of loose razors in the drawer but his mind is entirely focused on Joonyoung so he can lament the chunk of skin he’s now missing later.  There are also countless bottles and tubes of various shapes and sizes and at one point he has to actually break their kiss for a second to make sure the bottle in his hand isn’t hair gel or shampoo or something equally disastrous.

 

But he manages to find it, and he pulls Joonyoung forward so he’s standing, legs spread, leaning back against the sink with hands splayed behind himself to shakily support his weight.  Hadon notices how weak his legs are right now, how hard of a time he’s having just standing, so he lets go of his cock and wraps a strong arm behind Joonyoung’s back as he cracks open the lube one-handed, slicking up three fingers.

 

“You still…?”  Hadon has to make sure, searching Joonyoung’s face as he traces around his neatly trimmed pubes with the pad of his thumb.

 

“Please.”  Joonyoung’s cheeks still shine with tears and his eyes are still wild and his limbs still tremble, but he leans forward momentarily to tug Hadon’s hand between his thighs before leaning back into Hadon’s arm.

 

It’s not difficult to press two fingers almost fully into Joonyoung, he’s still kind of stretched and loose from the night before, but today it’s Hadon taking care of him, and Hadon needs to ensure that he’ll be comfortable.  Hadon can feel how Joonyoung’s knees buckle at the insertion, feels extra weight being put onto his arm, and he decides to do this quickly, especially because Joonyoung’s mouth falls open and he’s mouthing silent words as he bucks his hips upwards instinctively, and Hadon’s not sure how long he’ll last like this.

 

It takes a few quick pumps of his hand until he’s able to slide in a third finger, Joonyoung keening and gasping.  When his insides are slick and hot around his fingers and try to pull Hadon’s fingers back in every time he drags them out, Hadon draws his hand back fully, and they share a frantic kiss before Hadon grasps Joonyoung’s almost impossibly bony hips and bends him over the counter.

 

He’s never had this much control before, even when he’s rough it’s because Joonyoung asked him to be in no uncertain terms, but Joonyoung is pliant and completely yielding to him, letting Hadon press his chest into the counter beside the sink.  Joonyoung rests his forehead on one of his arms, pressing his free hand up against the glass of the mirror while Hadon reaches for the lube again and slicks up his erection liberally, parting his boyfriend’s cheeks and circling his puffy rim.

 

Joonyoung’s trembling, anxiously drumming his fingers against the countertop, and Hadon knows he needs him badly and he doesn’t want to keep him waiting.  He goes for one quick thrust in, making Joonyoung take him all at once, knowing Joonyoung and the limits of his body well, knowing that he needs this fast and hard.  Joonyoung gasps as he’s filled, and Hadon knows if things were different he’d already be complaining for him to hurry up, to go faster, to stop being so gentle, so Hadon puts his flexibility to good use, bending at the waist to press a tender kiss between Joonyoung’s jutting shoulder-blades before returning to their hectic pace.

 

He pulls out almost entirely before snapping his hips forward so roughly that it knocks air out of Joonyoung’s lungs and would drive him forward on the counter if it wasn’t for the fingers he has splayed out against the mirror.  Hadon watches the way his hand leaves smudges against the glass of the mirror before he gets an idea, and he bends forward again and fists a handful of Joonyoung’s damp hair and tugs his head upwards so he’s forced to look at himself as Hadon drives into him.

 

This makes Joonyoung frantic.  He tries to reach behind himself with the arm that was resting on the countertop to pull at Hadon’s hand on his head, and Hadon knows that he doesn’t want to see himself right now, knows that he thinks he looks old and messy and disgusting, but Hadon thinks he’s the farthest thing from any of those.

 

He’s beautiful, absolutely stunning with his shining eyes and his sweaty forehead and his flushed cheeks and his swollen lips, and Hadon wants him to look and see that, to see himself and see Hadon fucking him from behind and know that Hadon will think he’s gorgeous no matter what.

 

“Please look… please.”  Hadon whispers, and Joonyoung does.

 

He stares at himself for a good long minute, and Hadon stops thrusting to stare at Joonyoung’s reflection in the mirror with all of the adoration in the world.  Then Joonyoung suddenly smiles.  Well, sort of.  It’s a weird, shaky, lopsided grin, but it’s still a smile in Hadon’s eyes.   Then he takes a deep breath, and he calms down enough to let go of Hadon’s arm and nods for him to continue.  And continue Hadon does, rutting into Joonyoung in long, deep slides.

 

There’s nothing fancy here, none of the pampering he’d hoped for, none of the slowness and the gentleness he’d wanted to give.  Instead it’s just sex and desire and Joonyoung’s sweat on his skin and love.  He’s not entirely sure when his plans for a romantic morning were tossed out the window in favour of “I’m going to fuck you over the bathroom sink while making you watch so you can see how beautiful you are” (probably since the moment he woke up), but if this is helping Joonyoung, then it’s all he can ask for.

 

Joonyoung’s biting his bottom lip as he watches them in the mirror, and there’s nothing to be heard but the sound of the skin of Hadon’s thighs slapping against his ass and Hadon’s muted grunts of efforts as he grips one of Joonyoung’s bony hips and fucks into him with the ardour a beauty like him deserves.

 

When Joonyoung’s hands start to scrabble against the mirror, looking for some sort of purchase on the slippery glass, Hadon knows he’s close.  There’s not enough space between Joonyoung’s hips and the counter for him to be able to reach between them and jerk Joonyoung to completion, he’s been using the friction of the countertop and Joonyoung’s stomach to provide stimulation to Joonyoung’s cock, but it’s not enough.

 

He pulls sharply on Joonyoung’s hair, wrenching his head back, exposing the gorgeous sharp collarbones and adam’s apple that he loves so much, and Joonyoung’s forced to look upwards.  He meets Hadon’s gaze in the mirror, and while his eyes are red and glazed, the way Hadon’s looking at him seems to startle him, making him push back hard on the mirror and drive Hadon into him as deep as he can possibly go.

 

And while their eyes are locked, it’s dumb and it’s cheesy and it’s stupid and it’s most definitely a cliché, but Hadon’s got to say it, just to make sure Joonyoung knows.

 

“You’re beautiful, I love you.”

 

Joonyoung had stopped crying at some point since he was bent over the sink, but fresh tears spring up in his eyes at Hadon’s words, which seem to be what do it for him.  He gasps and shudders as tears start to track down his tinted cheeks, shooting hot ropes of cum onto the sink and over the counter, before his legs give out entirely and he slumps onto the counter, fingers dragging down the surface of the mirror as Hadon finally releases his hair.

 

It’s only through lots of practice and self-control that Hadon’s able to go for as long as he has, but now that Joonyoung’s orgasmed his focus shifts temporarily to his own body.  And Joonyoung’s ass is so hot and so tight and so slick around him that all it takes is a few untimed thrusts and then he’s done, gripping both hands tight on Joonyoung’s hips to make sure he’s fully buried in Joonyoung as he spills into him.  He collapses forward, chest pressed into Joonyoung’s wiry back as he tries to catch his breath.

 

He knows he needs to pull out, he’s probably crushing Joonyoung, but when takes a step back and his softening cock slides out, he’s given a cruel reminder of why sex in the bathroom isn’t always a great idea.  Because every inch of his skin is covered in sweat, including his feet, and sweaty feet combined with a slippery tile floor is a great way to end up on your back on said tile floor.

 

Which is what happens.  And he drags Joonyoung, too spent to support his weight in the slightest anymore, down with him.

 

Joonyoung gets off okay; he falls mostly on top of Hadon.  But Hadon gets his tailbone and the back of his skull colliding with the hard floor, and he also gets Joonyoung’s sharp elbows in his gut.

 

When his head stops spinning and he gets his breath back (Joonyoung only sort of winded him) and he’s done a quick inventory of his body to make sure he’s just bruised (skin and ego both) and nothing’s actually broken or concussed, he turns his head just enough to look at Joonyoung beside him.  Well, half beside him and half on top of him, but Joonyoung looks back at him too.  His cheeks have dried tear tracks down them and his eyes are bloodshot, his hair is completely ruined and his stomach is coated in cum.  There’s cum and lube smeared down his thighs and his lips are dark and swollen.

 

But he really does look beautiful in Hadon’s eyes, so Hadon can’t help but smile at him.  Joonyoung’s lips twist weirdly, then he’s making a weird little noise that he’s trying so hard to contain in his throat, and Hadon just watches as he cracks and starts giggling.  Which makes Hadon chuckle, because it’s so absurd and he has no idea why Joonyoung’s giggling at him but he is, and that makes Joonyoung laugh a wheezy breathy laugh, which makes Hadon laugh in turn.  Suddenly they’re both howling with laughter and Hadon’s arms are trapped under Joonyoung so he can’t cover his teeth like he normally would and Joonyoung’s arms are splayed across Hadon’s chest and he doesn’t seem to want to move them to clap his hands together, so they just lay there and laugh until Hadon’s abs burn and tears form in his eyes and he can’t breathe and has to stop.

 

As he winds down and wipes moisture from the corners of his eyes, he glances over at his boyfriend again, and even though he does look like a bit of a mess (but a gorgeous one), his eyes are sharp and sparkling despite being partially obscured by dark hair and there’s a familiar grin playing on his lips. He’s Joonyoung again.  Hadon’s just about to push some of those exquisite strands out of his eyes when Joonyoung grimaces.

 

“Ouch, what is that?”  Joonyoung groans as he twists to reach behind his back, pulling out something shiny and metal.  “Scissors?  Why the hell are there scissors on the floor?”

 

Hadon chuckles slightly in disbelief.  “You seriously don’t remember?”

 

Joonyoung chews slowly on his bottom lip.  “No, everything’s been kind of a haze this morning…”

 

“You tried to cut off your hair.”

 

“What, really?”  Joonyoung makes a huge effort to prop himself up on one elbow as Hadon nods at him.  “Shit.  And you stopped me?”

 

“Of course I stopped you.”

 

Joonyoung thinks this over for a second before tossing the scissors aside and laying back down on the floor, covering his face with his hands.  “I really lost it this morning, didn’t I?”

 

Hadon shrugs.  “Not really.”

 

Joonyoung smiles slightly as he rubs at his swollen eyes.  “I’m sorry.  I’m really sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.”

 

“No, it wasn’t fair to you… freaking out over things nobody can change, that’s so dumb…”

 

Hadon shrugs again.  “Nah, it’s actually kind of reassuring when you cry.  Makes us all know that you’re human.”

 

Joonyoung rolls onto his side, smacking Hadon lightly on the chest.  “Excuse you.  I’m not your goddess for nothing.”

 

Hadon grins as he reaches out for Joonyoung, grabbing at his arms, pulling him close, ignoring the slimy feeling of cum smearing onto his skin from Joonyoung’s stomach.  Joonyoung lets him, curls around, twines their legs together, puts his head on Hadon’s chest.  Hadon listens to his breathing for a while, runs his hands along the damp skin of his shoulders, draws along all his prominent bones with his fingertips, treasures him like he always has and always will.

 

“I meant it, you know?”  The words are out of his mouth before he can think about them.  “You’re beautiful.  Now and always.”

 

Joonyoung sits up slightly, hair falling across his face as he looks into Hadon’s eyes with surprise.

 

“Even like this?”  He laughs slightly, gesturing to his sweat and lube and cum coated body and his bright red eyes and his puffy lips.  

 

“Yeah.”  Hadon laughs back as he lifts a hand up to idly trace along Joonyoung’s jaw, up his cheek, along his nose, and to finally push those luscious black strands out of his eyes.

 

When he pushes all of Joonyoung’s hair off his forehead, pinning it all back with his palm, they stop and stare at each other, watch each other’s smiles fade as they realize what Joonyoung looks like right now.  As if his hair was cut short.

 

Joonyoung takes a deep breath before he speaks, and when he does his voice is just a whisper.  “Even like… like this?”

 

Of course.

 

“Even like this.”  Hadon nods, and Joonyoung wipes at his eyes for a second before leaning down and kissing him slowly, tenderly, with all the love and commitment and trust anyone could possibly fit into one kiss.

 

“I’ll wait.”  Hadon murmurs against Joonyoung’s lips, bumping the tips of their noses against each others’.

 

It’s only two years.  Of course he’ll wait.

 

Although he’d wait a lifetime if he really had to.

 

“I know you will.”  Joonyoung whispers back, pressing their foreheads together before Hadon smiles and pushes Joonyoung’s hair back again.

 

“Besides, I think you’ll look really handsome like that.  Real manly.”

 

Joonyoung doesn’t even have a response beyond slapping Hadon softly in the side of the head while smiling to himself and shaking his head as Hadon pulls him in for another kiss.

 

They kiss a while longer, all slow and soft, trusting and intimate, Hadon relishing in the heat of Joonyoung’s body, ignoring the mess and the fluids and the fact that Joonyoung’s probably going to be a little peeved when he realizes he’s going to need another shower.  He can’t ignore that the tile of the bathroom floor isn’t exactly the most comfortable spot to do this in, though.

 

“Hey, do you want to come back to bed yet?  I did have presents and stuff planned for you…”  Hadon offers, but Joonyoung shakes his head, grinning as he leans in to press their lips together again.

 

“Maybe in a bit.  But right now this seems like the best present I could have.”

 

So Hadon lays there and kisses him back.  Maybe he didn’t plan for this morning to be spent in a mess of cum and lube and sweat on the floor of their sole tiny bathroom.  Eddy’s going to freak out when he eventually comes in and steps in something wet, and Joonyoung’s going to be upset at them both when he realizes that Hadon’s knocked all of his makeup all of the floor, and whoever has to clean the bathroom this week is not going to be happy about the handprints all over the mirror.

 

But Joonyoung’s kissing him with confidence, with the assurance and boldness that are so characteristic of him.  He’s kissing him like he really does feel beautiful, like he knows in his heart of hearts that Hadon thinks he’s beautiful now and that he always will.  

 

So he’ll lay here on the bathroom floor and kiss him and love him, because making Joonyoung feel like this is the best present he could give.

 

“Happy birthday, Joonyoung.”  He smiles as he holds Joonyoung closer, and when Joonyoung grins and kisses him even harder, he knows this is still a pretty great birthday from Joonyoung’s point of view.

 

Although if this is how Joonyoung reacts to turning only twenty-nine, Hadon’s not all that excited for thirty.


End file.
